


Three times Scully lost herself in a world of fantasy and one time she didn't

by This_ape_writes



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:32:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3557951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_ape_writes/pseuds/This_ape_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 7 post Millenium. Scully has a few fantasies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three times Scully lost herself in a world of fantasy and one time she didn't

The first time she had been allowed to have a detailed fantasy about her partner, was on the twenty seventh of January at 6:24 am. It hit as they waited in line at a Duncan Donuts in downtown Chicago, just down the street from the main library. 

 

Let's be honest, she'd had fleeting sexual thoughts about him for years. They had been more frequent since the first of the year, but they would pop in and she would destroy them before they could do any damage. After all she was in control. She was always in perfect control. 

But on this day, on this particular day, for whatever reason, a thought popped in and she didn't destroy it. She let it stay. She actually sort of encouraged it, though for the life of her she couldn't really say why. Maybe it was because Mars was in a good location with her something sign. Or maybe it was because she'd slept well the night before. Or maybe it was because she was just too god damned tired of fighting with her persistent mind, but for whatever reason, this morning she allowed herself to just run with it. 

And the trigger wasn't even sexual. 

Not really. 

They had been standing in line, neither one speaking to the other, lost in their 'we just woke up and have a case to figure out' early morning cerebral fatigue. They were third in line behind a businessman on his cell phone and a guy in shorts in 23 degree weather, when a woman rushed in the door. 

She was impeccably dressed in a designer label Scully couldn't even pronounce let alone afford. This woman's hair was flawless and refused to muss itself even as she pushed it away from her face. Her offensively expensive shoes ticked loudly against the floor as she barged into the center of the donut shop. 

The woman, thoughtful of no one but herself, banged into Mulder without even noticing. It knocked his equilibrium off and he stumbled to stay standing as the woman announced belatedly that she was coming through. This woman had the nerve to start shaking her reusable stainless steel coffee mug in the air in the universal sign for 'empty', wrapped in perfume that preceded her entrance and then overstayed its welcome. 

Rude woman cut the line without a question or apology and everyone was too stunned to stop her. 

Mulder, in an out of character gesture, spit out the word 'motherfucker' under his breath before making a truly childish face of contempt to the woman's back complete with wagging his head back and forth. "Can you believe this shit?" He muttered. 

That's when the ball started to roll. 

He had reached out, and pushed three of his fingers against the grooves between her lower vertebrae as he shifted them both a few feet to the left so they would be out of the way of crazy line cutting woman's return getaway path. 

He hadn't removed his fingers once they were settled. 

Not the worst of offenses. 

It wasn't even all that unusual. 

Mulder had been unconsciously following her lead via contact with her spine since as far back as she could remember. 

But today, something about it went wrong. 

Terribly wrong. 

She'd turned to look at him and saw that he was standing in his usual two millimeter bubble of personal space as he turned away from her to exchange 'do you believe this woman' looks with everyone else in line. That's when an overwhelming impulse attacked her imagination head on. 

Right at that moment, all she could imagine was yanking on his hair and finding out exactly what the inside of his unusually filthy, curse filled mouth, tasted like. She imagined his startled response that would quickly dissolve into reciprocation as his hand would leave her back to find out what her ass felt like instead. 

They would snatch center stage in the drama of Dunkin Donuts store 1042 away from the line cutter, as they would take their kissing show on the road. They would glide towards the grouping of tables behind them all limbs and tongues and moaning. Early morning corporates in their ties reading the New York Times and stay at home fathers feeding their two year olds donut holes would scramble to get up and dive away from the crazy make out session suddenly headed their way. 

Eventually their road show would run out of runway and her back would collide against the community cork board that was nailed against the far wall, full of guitar lessons and lost cats.

That's when she would be nailed against the far wall instead, murmuring his name as she'd sink her nails into his shoulder blade and her teeth against his neck. 

"Scully?" He asked. She snapped her attention to her partners confused face and she had to hope he couldn't read what she'd been thinking. (After all, he'd been able to do that once before.)She pulled her voice together and shrugged just one shoulder with a micro movement he might have missed. 

"Get my usual will you? I'd like to wash up."

Turns out letting her imagination have free reign was a terrifying and really dangerous idea. She knew there was a reason she'd kept it on such a short leash all these years. She stared at her flushed reflection in the soap splattered mirror and let out a shaky sigh. Oh dear god where had that even come from?

 

The second time she was allowed to slip into an all consuming fantasy about her partner, it wasn't just the trigger that wasn't sexual but the whole damn fantasy as well. 

 

And absolutely none of it was her fault. 

Four states, two days, eight hours and three minutes had passed since the Dunkin Donuts incident. Not that she was tracking. She just happened to glance at the clock is all. The blue neon rimmed clock that said time for pie in the center and then the word pie repeated over and over and over where the numbers ought to have been against the far wall in this Dallas diner. 

He was across from her looking exhausted, still in his leather jacket, lost in thought. 

She watched with no small amount of affection as he dug his pinky fingernail into the very center of his cardboard drink coaster, eyeballing it to see if it was centered enough and then digging in more. When he was satisfied with his work he plopped it down on the table. He placed his fingertips around the edges, flicked his wrist, and sent the coaster spiraling in a circle like a tiny manic merry go round. He would watch it spin and he'd scratch his cheek. When it ran out of steam he'd spin it again. 

That's when it started. 

Their waitress approached the table and noticed his spinning top and she smiled. 

"My goodness aren't you quite the engineer!" The waitress said. She watched her partner as he pulled his head up to look at their new arrival. He flashed his most brilliant smile, the one that almost made his eyes completely disappear and he chuckled. 

"Well yes I...I am an engineer actually. I design roller coasters." The lie was so fast and easy SHE almost believed it. Wait when had he had the chance to design roller...oh. She felt her eyebrows climbing their way up off of her forehead in shock but she settled in to watch whatever was happening right here. What the hell Mulder. 

"Oh my gosh. That sounds exciting!" the waitress said. He dropped his head and shrugged. 

"Well I think so. Best job in the world if...if you ask me. The first time they open one of my rides and I hear people screaming, ah...it doesn't get any better than that you know? Uh...what was your name?" He asked. 

"Becky," the waitress said, tilting her name tag down a bit. 

"Becky. Right. Steven Fletcher. Or Steve," he said shaking her hand as he refused to break eye contact with his new audience. 

"Steve. Gosh, have you designed anything I would know?" The waitress asked, folding her arms across her chest and completely ignoring her order taking duties to lose herself in Steven Fletchers unwavering gaze. 

Scully knew the feeling. 

He smiled at Becky's question and Scully had to force her eyes to keep from rolling when he tilted his head just enough so that he could look up through his eyelashes. Just like that, he was giving Becky the most disgusting, adorable, Disney forest creature face she'd ever seen on a human being. 

"Do you know the new Mr. Freeze ride at Six Flags?" He asked. 

"The one here in Texas? Sure! You designed that?" She asked. 

"Guilty. Well, sort of. I can't take credit for much. Olivia here, she did most of the real work." Before she could ask him what he was doing or what drugs he might be on she realized he was talking about her. He was dragging her into this crazy story and now she really wanted to see where this would go. 

She watched him with apprehension building in her stomach as he slid his hands palms down across the table and gathered up one of her hands into both of his. He leaned across the table and kissed her fingers, lingering far longer than he had any right to. He was also now fixing HER with Mr. Fletchers unwavering gaze and she could feel herself starting to sweat. 

"Oh," Becky said, not deterred at all by he change in direction. "Do y'all work together then?" She asked. 

"Mmm," he said with his lips still against her knuckles. He slowly withdrew his mouth, letting his lips produce a gentle pop sound, and he smiled. "We're partners in every sense of the word," he said. "She's my entire pathetic world."

Ok. Now she was really sweating, she could feel a drop of it break free and slide down her neck and her pulse was clicking up a few notches in speed. 

"See, I come up with these crazy half cocked ideas and she comes along, being the brilliant person that she is, and she smooths them out and turns them into reality." 

She told herself not to, but her mouth defied her and she could feel her lipgloss unstick slightly as she let her lips curve into a smile. He may have been spinning some weird fantasy bullshit but there was an edge of truth there that was warming her chest with tingly little tendrils of electricity. 

"Wow that's beautiful," Becky said with a grin, clutching her note pad and sighing. "Do y'all live around here then?" He licked his lips and leaned back against the booth seat but he didn't let go of her hand. 

"Oh no. We have an apartment in Brooklyn actually. It's not fancy but it's big enough for us and our dog, Sadie. It's home," he shrugged.

What the fuck had gotten into this insane person in front of her. Not that she wasn't enjoying the fantasy. She was enjoying the damn fantasy but what the hell? Partners in every sense? His entire world? An apartment in Brooklyn? A dog? Mulder hated dogs!

She was so lost in the sudden image of Mulder's collapsing green leather couch nestled next to her favorite blue striped wingback chair with both of their books climbing up one of the walls in their New York loft that she didn't realize she had been asked something until she shook out of her haze to see them both looking at her. 

"Huh?" Articulate Dana. Real articulate. Way to take a mind that had made it through med school and had deconstructed Einstein and reduce it to a monosyllabic grunt and a blank stare. 

"Liv? She asked if you know what you want?" He asked. What she wanted? Did she know what she wanted? Right at that moment? She wanted to be Olivia Fletcher, roller coaster designer extraordinaire but she would be damned if she was ever going to let him know that. 

So she said nothing. 

He smiled and looked up at Becky. "A few more minutes maybe," he said. As their waitress walked away, Scully leaned forward. 

"Mulder what the hell..." She hissed. He smiled and kissed her fingers again, albeit far too quickly this go around, and then he stood up. 

"Just having fun Scully. Gotta keep those under cover skills sharp. Order me pancakes," he said walking off and leaving her flustered and confused. 

 

The third time she lost herself in an imaginary world had not been near as fun. The circumstances were shit and the images were horrifying. Even during the day she was scared to close her eyes. 

 

Her imagination, it turns out, had the capacity to be a real bastard. 

 

After running off because it was a Tuesday to follow something that turned out to be nothing her partner had turned up, after being awol for two days, with some minor burns and a gashed open head. 

He had been the one to call her from the hospital and at least he had the decency to sound sheepish when he explained where he had been. She'd rushed out of her apartment and driven well past the speed limit, with her badge on her lap just in case any of DC's finest decided to pull her over and slow her down. 

She'd parked in doctors parking ignoring the possible danger of being towed and burst into the ER on a mission. She'd asked about his whereabouts and had been directed to a small room just off the main emergency room there on the first floor. He'd already had X-rays and they had run a series of tests and now a nurse was working on repairing his head when she walked in. 

He acknowledged her entrance with a weak shrug and she didn't speak. She let the nurse do his job while she stood silently in the corner, trying not to fume. She found herself filling with this liquid anger that was rising higher and higher to her overflowing point like an overfilled pool in a monsoon storm as she watched him stare at her from across the room. Her arms were folded around her and she pushed her shoulder blades back against the hospital wall to keep herself grounded and sane as they started to stitch him up. 

He winced when the numbing needle made contact with his nerves and she hated that her arms flew out in reaction to stop them from hurting him further. She pulled her traitorous arms back around herself as fast as she could but when she met his eyes again she saw him twitch a grin at her overreaction.

Ok now her anger was flowing over. 

She wanted to pick up one of the syringes on the trey next to her and throw it across the room like a dart into the side of his face but she held it together and simply walked out of the room instead. 

"Scully wait hey, Scul..." He called as she pushed the door shut behind her. 

Damn him. 

She shook her arms and paced around trying to empty her body of anxious energy and she really wished it was socially acceptable for someone to just randomly scream at the top of their lungs. 

She was holding it together, but only just, and it was taking a severe toll on her nervous system as her hands began to shake. 

She thought back to the night before. 

The night that she had spent wide awake on the Gunmen's couch because she couldn't bare to be alone anymore. The night she had spent imagining him in all sorts of horrible scenarios. When having an overly vivid imagination ceased to be an asset and rapidly became a liability. 

In her mind, he was lost. The only landmark around him were trees. A vast amount of trees. He was confused. Where was he? Who was he? All his brain could produce was the vague image of tropical fish. Maybe he'd just sit and rest for a moment in the cold. Maybe that moment turned into days. Maybe it turned into weeks. 

Or maybe it was worse. 

Connected to a chair with red zipties meant for organizing electrical cords not for holding arms at his side, while unknown faceless entities tortured him because they could. She could hear him screaming in her mind and she could see his face. Bruised. Cut. Bleeding. Yelling her name. 

Or maybe it was worse than even that, her mind said, rubbing its hands together in malevolent glee as it queued up the next set of images to her horror bank. 

Lying lifeless on the unfinished basement dirt floor of some horrible creatures lair. His features unrecognizable as he weakly called her name with life escaping him. She watched from so far away as he took one final breath. 

She'd watched three episodes of Ren and Stimpy with Langly in a poor attempt to try and erase that thought.

It hadn't worked. 

Her imagination was a real son of a bitch. 

But now he was here just on be other side of this door. He was ok. His injuries weren't torturous and created by faceless monsters, but self inflicted by being an uncoordinated klutz that had tripped and fallen into the edge of his makeshift campfire. 

He'd put her through over reactive imagination hell and worry for nothing and now he had the damn nerve to smile at her. 

The door behind her opened and she felt her shoulders tense to brace from him but it was just the nurse who chuckled and closed the door. She turned around and relaxed a bit. 

"You know," he said. "We're all done in there. He's got a bit more iv fluid to go through so he's not so dehydrated and some test results need to come back from the lab, but now's your chance if you want to get a few punches in." She closed her eyes and dropped her head with a chuckle. 

"Thank you. I'll uh, keep that in mind. Is he alright?" She asked looking up at the nurse and folding her arms in their usual place around her ribs to protect herself. 

"If you mean physically, then yes, he's just fine. His cuts will heal and I've had worse burns from my oven. But he does think that you've left which is causing him to have a slight mental breakdown. He's currently in there frantically calling your phone."

She could tell. Her phone was a vibrating irritation in her pocket. 

She sighed.

"Thank you," she said, shaking his hand. 

"Not a problem. And really. One good swing. A black eye. A fat lip. Who's to say he didn't walk in with those? No one will know," the nurse added as he walked away. 

Scully smiled in a boomerang smile that slid into appearance and then slid right away. 

Dammit. 

Her phone fell silent in her pocket and before she even had a chance to move, it picked back up in a new insistent wave of buzzing. 

Crap. 

As much as her sadistic side said to let him panic and feel a tiny piece of the terror she'd been feeling the past two days she couldn't give in to that urge. This was Mulder. She'd protect him from anything. 

She'd even protect him from herself. 

She was going to have to pull it together and go back inside that room. 

Scully lifted her arm like it was an anvil, wrapped in bar bells, filled with sand and she dropped her hand against the cold paddle handle of the hospital door with a thunk. That anger that had welled up in a flash flood before, was receding as quickly as it had arrived and now she was filling up with relief. 

Yes he was a reckless ass hat but he was HER reckless ass hat and she really was just so thankful that he was ok. She gripped the door handle, muttered a prayer for strength then followed up with a swear word as she tugged on the door. As it pulled open she watched him swing around from where he stood across the room. 

His initial reaction was subtle. And fast. An unobservant person might have missed it completely. 

Dana Scully was not that person. 

She watched as breath rushed out of him and in a set of tiny micro movements he deflated like a marionette with cut strings. His eyes closed, his neck sagged, his shoulders collapsed and his fingers slid lax letting his phone bounce out of his grip and luckily catch on the bed beside him. 

Her buzzing phone in her pocket went silent. 

And then just like that he was back to normal. 

He opened his eyes and watched as she stepped inside the small room. She reached her arms behind her back to press the door closed with a click and looked him over as she did.

Seven years of daily interactions had given her the power to read his face as easily as a child's book.

See spot run. 

See Mulder stare. 

Right now his face was telling her he felt terrible. It was telling her he was really, really sorry. It was also telling her that he was terrified she would leave again. Those were the glaring words pouring out of his expressive eyes and hitting her in the face. But as she leaned against the door and read her favorite book, she saw something else. Something deeply hidden under all the other stuff. Something she'd been seeing more and more of lately. Something he was having the damnedest time covering up. 

She saw in his face, complete and utter disbelief. 

Disbelief. 

This from the man who believed at the drop of a hat anything and everything. The man who would believe Frankenstein's monster was not only real but living in South Dakota with his long time partner the Wolfman based on nothing more than a story told to him second hand by a guy he just met at a Cracker Barrel. That same willing to believe it all guy couldn't believe this. 

Couldn't believe that she was here. 

Voluntarily. 

That she cared. 

And stayed. 

And that she was relieved to the point of tears that he was alive and well. 

That was the line. That was where his belief stopped and disappeared. 

And the thought of him feeling that, broke her heart. 

"Dammit Mulder," she heard her voice say. 

He made a weird sound like the love child of a whisper and a mutter of what was probably intended to be her name. It slid partway out of his mouth before his tongue got stuck in the L's of it all. 

That was when she lost her damn mind. 

She pushed against the door, she crossed the room in three steps to where he stood and she surprised them both by grabbing his arm and his shirt and then the side of his face. She then used her lips to pry his free and her tongue to help his become unstuck. 

She really surprised him. She could tell by his intake of breath and his tense retreat by a few millimeters. A retreat that was enough for her to feel, not enough to actually break contact. She felt his finger tips slide down her ribs like the edge of a flowy blouse, and down to her hips where they stopped. They hovered there not knowing where to go. She moved to kiss him deeper, having to stretch up almost on her toes and she was starting to get a little frustrated with the fact that he was responding to her about as well as a coma patient. Her neck was getting stiff from the awkward angle of him being too damn tall and before she could adjust further she felt his knees just give way. She wasn't expecting that but she was able to maintain contact and as he sank into the bed and they were suddenly on even footing. 

And oh the leverage that this shift gave her. 

She stood between his knees and not giving a damn that he whimpered at her grip, she tore into his hair and moved his head so her mouth could move into his in the exact way God intended. 

Well...ok...maybe not God exactly, but at least the way his video collection intended. 

His fingertips started to come to life and decided they should move a bit and he was recovering from his initial shock in order for his mouth to begin reciprocating nicely. 

That's when...

Oh. Dear. God. 

When that switch flipped she realized she was in serious trouble. 

Now, she was very confident in her oral abilities. Although a few years out of practice, she had a well rounded diverse history that had built on her already natural gifts. She'd dated all ages all sizes all styles and had more than a few one night stands. She'd had a run of affairs, a line of authority types, and a string of several professors during her first two years of college. 

One of those professors had actually lost her tenure over their relationship when they had been discovered entangled together in one of the biology classrooms. That had been one of Scully's biggest regrets. Mostly because female science professors were statistically a minority so it made it hurt even more that she'd caused one of them to lose their job. But even as it had cost her, her job, that professor had told Scully that she had no regrets at all and that Scully's mouth had more than made it worth her while. 

Needless to say, Scully had skills. 

But Jesus. 

They were barely a few minutes in to their first real kissing session and he was proving to be so far out of her league it was making her spine turn to mush. He was coaxing nerve endings to life that he wasn't any where near. She was beginning to think that eating sunflower seeds must be the oral equivalent of competing in a triathlon. 

It turns out that her wild most imagination had not done him justice. 

Shock waves starting in the soles of her feet wave rushed up her body and into her chest. Anger and relief and damn him, love, powered her tongue and if she hadn't have been such a stupid weak mortal in need of oxygen she would have gone on kissing him forever. 

When she did finally break free to keep from asphyxiating on his lower lip she suddenly couldn't bare to open her eyes and turn this into real life. Afraid that it might not, in fact, be real. 

But the longer she stood there, the more real it felt. And the more real it felt, the more awkward it became. She leaned her forehead against his, eyes screwed shut and she fought for breath as she suddenly felt embarrassed. 

"Uh, Scully?" He breathed. She felt her body cringe and she tried to step back but his arms wouldn't let her. They wound around her legs and pulled her back to where she was. "No don't...that's not what...I was just gonna ask if you wouldn't mind grabbing somewhere else?" He asked. 

She fluttered her eyes open and looked down to see that her hand was vice gripping around his freshly bandaged and burned skin of his arm and she gasped as she let go. 

He chuckled. 

"It's fine really it's just..." He licked his lips and stared up at her. "...without the distraction of your..." his hand lifted and she felt herself blush when his finger touched her lip and then fell back around her legs "...you know," he said, "it was just kinda starting to hurt. We uh...we could just go back to distracting instead. I'm okay with that," he said. 

His full blown eye disappearing grin lit up his face as she leaned her forehead back against his and closed her eyes. Yes. Going back to distracting would be amazing. But not all that beneficial. She needed to get something straight first. 

"Mulder. This has been the worst two days I've had in a really long time," she admitted and she felt his arms twitch tighter around her. "I spent all last night watching cartoons with Langly trying to keep from imagining all the awful things that could be happening to you." He pulled away from her, leaving her heavy relaxed head to fall forward a few inches before she could recover. When she did she looked at him and saw a wide eyed look of shocked guilt. 

"You did?" He said. 

"And I'm tired Mulder," she said. "I haven't slept more than an hour or two since you ran off." She dropped her gaze away from him and sighed. "Oh god I'm so tired in every way I can imagine. I'm tired of you not understanding how I feel. I'm tired of holding back and stopping myself. I'm tired of living in imaginary scenarios. I'm just so tired."

She could hear him swallow and his lips unstick as his voice cracked out of him.   
"Ok," he said. It wasn't quite a question but it wasn't an Ok of understanding either. It was only one word but she knew it meant 'Ok so what does that mean'. She looked back at him, at his worried face, and she ran her finger tips down the side of it, careful to avoid the two jagged lines of stitches. 

"I'm done Mulder. I'm..."she shrugged. "...done." She felt his arms slide down and loosen their grip. She stood up a little straighter and felt the weight of his head press into her open palm at the side of his cheek. He was staring at her again but this time she didn't read disbelief at all. 

This he believed. 

This he had ALWAYS believed. 

Her giving up. Her walking away. He'd always believed she would leave him eventually, it was just a matter of when. But she twitched a tiny grin and shook her head as a chuckle she had intended to keep buried deep inside bubbled its way out of her lips. "No Mulder. Not done like that," she said. "Good lord what on earth do I have to do to prove I'm in this with you for good?" She said. His eyebrows screwed themselves up in confusion and he blinked his eyes up to hers. 

"But then what..." 

"I'm done with the bullshit Mulder." His eyes widened. 

"Scully!" He admonished with the start of a tiny smile. She never cursed. Not to him anyway. But this called for some uncharacteristic harshness. 

"No. Fuck it Mulder, I'm done. It ends right here."

"Good lord that's...you should really curse more often ... But...What, ends,right here, exactly?" He asked. 

"First off? You're not going to run away without warning ever again," she said. He opened his mouth and she shoved two of her fingers against it, rougher than she had intended but it shut him up. "I'm not saying don't run off, I'm not saying change who you are, I'm saying you're not going to disappear and not tell me where you're going first. I'm talking about a thirty second phone call Mulder. I'm sorry but I can't..." 

She had to pause. 

And swallow. 

She wasn't going to lose it. Not yet. She stuffed her emotions back inside for just a bit longer and reclaimed her voice. "I can't go through this again. Promise me." He nodded. 

"I promise. No more running off without warning," he said. 

"Ok that's item number one," she said. 

"There's more?" He asked. She wanted to smile at the whine behind that sentence but she wouldn't dare give him the satisfaction. 

"Yes there's more," she said trying to sound stern. It must have worked. He closed his mouth and stared at her. 

There was more. 

There really was more. 

There was so much more. 

Wasn't there?

But she was losing all her forward momentum and her nerve. She dragged her fingertips into his hair and used what little wavering nerve she had left to drop back down to kiss him. He was less surprised this time and instead of retreating a tiny bit he leaned forward to meet her. He was soft. And perfect. And gave her just enough courage to pull her mouth free so she could talk against the side of his cheek. 

"This. I want this," she said. She felt his eyebrows raise as they rested against her forehead and she heard him chuckle out a chuffed breath. 

"Yeah?" He asked. She closed her eyes and nodded. 

"Yeah," she said. "That's what I meant by done. I'm done lying and pretending I don't want this because I do. I do want this. I want us. I give up. I spend a vast majority of my life fighting God knows what all that's out there against us. I'm not going to keep fighting this. Not anymore." She felt his thumb slide her hair away from curtaining around them to secure behind her ear, but she wasn't brave enough yet to lift her face away from being buried into the side of his forehead. 

She needed the strength that hiding from him was providing to get this next part out. 

"I want YOU, Mulder," she said. 

His breathing picked up. 

"Hell, I want to be Olivia Fletcher," she said. She felt his eyelashes against her cheek as he rapid blinked at that statement. He pulled back away from her but before he could ask what that meant, he must have remembered and he exploded into a breathless laugh that almost sounded like a cough until he could suck in more oxygen and laugh correctly. 

"Yeah?" He asked. "We can do that. New York to DC would be a hell of a commute every day though. Georgetown is bad enough!" He kept laughing. 

She smiled and he hugged her. His laugh died down to a chuckle and then died down to a sigh. He tipped his face enough so he could plant a kiss on the highest edge of her cheek bone and he sighed again. "So is that it? Was that the whole list of what I needed to know?" He asked. She thought it over. Now was her chance. She could tell him everything she wanted from him. But if she had somewhere stored up a longer list than that, it was gone now. It flew out of her mind. 

She really just wanted him. 

That was it. 

That felt right. 

"Yes," she said. "That's it." He kissed her cheek again and then pulled away from her so she had no choice but to stop hiding behind him and she forced her eyes to look into his. 

He was beaming. 

He was being such an adorable idiot she had to force herself to not roll her eyes. But his giddy look of adoration he was throwing her way was making her feel like she was going to blush so she broke eye contact, took a deep breath and looked down at his shirt. She preoccupied herself with tracing a finger around the edge of one of the buttons that had freed itself from his collar and she let out her breath in a sigh. 

"What about you?" She asked. 

"Me? Oh I get to make a list of demands?" He asked. 

She fit her fingers around his button and shrugged. 

"Of course you do Mulder," she said. She could hear him lick his lips and she couldn't help herself. Her eyes flicked up to watch him do it and then when she realized she was staring she dropped her eyes again and focused back on his button. 

"Yeah ok I've got one thing," he said. 

"Ok?" She said. 

"Yeah but I'm gonna need eye contact from you to hear it," he said. She immediately obliged and he grinned. "You ready? This is asking a lot," he said. She felt herself nod. Did he really not know that she would do anything he asked? "Alright I warned you. Scully?" his damn tone made her flinch but she refused to break his gaze. "You need to really do this. Stop fighting. Let go. Stop being embarrassed," he said grabbing a soft hold of her chin. "I want this too. But you're right. Fighting any of this is exhausting and futile. We need to hold each other accountable and just let go."

She smiled at that and nodded. 

"I can do that," she said. 

He grinned. 

"Ok then I have one more favor to ask," he said. 

"Anything," she said. 

"Sign me out of here. And take me home. Actually if you'll let me I'd like to go to YOUR home," he amended. "I'd like to resume our distraction and I'd really like to try out a few things I've been fantasizing about over the last seven years." A vibrating sting like a nine volt battery fluttered in her stomach at the very idea and she couldn't help it. She smiled. He didn't wait for her to answer. She guessed that her smile was an answer enough. He reached down and pulled his iv out like he'd probably done a thousand times before and he searched around behind him for his cell phone on the bed. 

Her car was out front. She could have them out of there in minutes. But she needed to do one thing first. She stopped him from standing and putting on his jacket to kiss him one last time. 

"Seven years?" She asked. He grinned and threaded his arms into his jacket. He reached up and pulled on the collar as he nodded. 

"Yeah pretty much," he said. 

"Dear god, I've only been fighting fantasies for a few months. How have you survived?" She asked. 

He dropped his arms to his sides. The well worn leather of his jacket groaning as he shrugged. He reached out and affectionately threaded her hair behind her ear. 

"I had the unfounded irrational faith of you someday feeling the same way." 

She chuckled and shook her head. 

"I guess today's your lucky day," she said. 

"God Scully, you have absolutely no idea," he said in a tone that made her break out in chills. 

That wasn't fair. It made it worse that he was staring at her like she was some sort of mythological goddess and she sighed as her aching nerves in her entire body lit up." 

"Forget signing out," she said. "Let's just leave." 

"Cursing AND breaking the rules. I could totally get used to this," he said. She started to hide her smile at that but remembered her promise to let go. Instead she smiled so hard her face actually hurt in protest and she shook her head. 

"Shut up Mulder."


End file.
